Inside Hedwig
by Woe is Me
Summary: What Hedwig REALLY thinks of Harry Potter. Some angry thoughts...R&R!


**Inside Hedwig**

I ruffled my feathers in my cage.

Neville's owl, Giggly-woo-woo, chirped from the other side of the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Hey Hedwig! How's life at the barber shop?" Giggly-woo-woo chirped happily.

"Aw shut up Happy-face!" I snapped.

How I hated Potter. Naming me Hedwig. I mean, it's like "head-wig."

Good thing I'm an owl and I don't have hair.

I liked it much more at Diagon Alley, in the pet shop.

The shopkeeper used to let me out of my cage for a spin around town, above the wizards and witches, high in the sky, fluttering past fluffy white clouds. Then she'd give me whatever I wanted for lunch, and gave me a nice roomy cage so I could practice my special yoga.

Yoga is really what keeps me running, it keeps me happy. It's my passion, my flaming passion, my relaxing flaming passion.

I remember the day when that big smelly hairy man walked into the pet shop. His name's Hagrid or something weird like that.

"Freak," I remember thinking as he entered. When he purchased me, I was surprised the oaf had picked me instead of the other owls, or rats, or even cats.

Next thing I knew I was in a tiny cage with no room to move, being handed to a nerdish looking boy with glasses and an outrageously-shaped ugly scar on his hollow forehead.

He carried me all around Diagon Alley, shaking me until I was so flustered and frightened I couldn't move.

Then he kept me in his sad excuse for a bedroom: more like a closet.

I couldn't move in my tiny cage, and the closet bedroom was so minuscule that the stupid Harry kid was smashed up next to me.

Then the next day he grabbed me and shook me till I was scared stiff, then he lugged me all around this train station, and he then ran into this pillar thing.

I seriously thought I was going to die right then, but then I magically appeared with the rest of the luggage on this weirdo train thing.

I was thrown carelessly into the cargo section, and my cage slid around nonstop for three hours straight.

Then I was taken out of the train and I met the oaf again.

"Yahoo," I was thinking.

The giant took all the cargo out, and pressed my cage against him.

Man, does that guy have BO! He smelled like a mixture of smelly feet, expired milk, goat cheese, and tuna fish.

I was nearly gagging when he stuffed me into this boat and pushed me out across the river to this huge castle thing.

Then I was magically transported to this dormitory place.

Now I don't understand why they couldn't have used this godforsaken magic to transport me right there to the room in the castle instead of having to almost kill me in that stupid train and stuff.

So there I was stuck in this stuffy little room.

Harry occasionally fed me a worm he found outside.

This boy was afraid of making commitments, I tell you. He had no idea how to take care of a pet.

I don't know how on Earth that Hermione girl took him. I mean, if she had such a huge crush on this guy, and she knew him so well, why didn't she embrace the fact that a relationship was never a choice? Hmmm, once I heard her talking to herself about how she dreamt of marrying him and settling in a remote area of Iceland.

Man, what a dreamer.

So with this kid only feeding me a worm biweekly, when I was hungry I was forced to eat my toenails.

But I gotta say, they're tasty with ketchup and oatmeal.

And then that Neville Longbottom idiot kid had to get his owl too.

And the way that imbecile pampered that owl made me so jealous I wanted to rip out Harry's intestines and use them as a jump rope.

So this Neville kid got his retarded owl a cage so big that two of Hagrid's butts could fit in there. And that's REALLY roomy.

And daily, Neville would give his Giggly-woo-woo owl a back massage, gourmet fish heads imported from Switzerland, yoga lessons, and On-Demand TV.

I wished so much to do that yoga, if only MY cage was bigger.

But Harry was too busy fighting dogs with three heads and this huge lizard thing called a basilisk or something and dementors with black hoods and junk like that to care about me.

But he did care about me when I was needed.

Like he wanted to send mail to his friends.

So I had to be his frickin' messenger!

If I was a mailman, I wouldn't be an owl.

I mean, I'm a SNOWY OWL! Do I look like a Fed Ex guy to you?

So if I'm just minding my own business, napping in my cage, all of a sudden, the Harry kid shakes me, and then stuffs an envelope in my beak and pushes me out the window.

So then I go and deliver the moron the letter, and then I fly all the way back, with no breaks at McDonald's, no matter how tempting it is, and then back at Hogwart's, I don't even get a thank you from the Potter dork.

And this routine is the same, year after year.

I've thought of running away...but that'd be too much hard work.

And air traffic is so awful nowadays.

So I've thought of doing the next best thing: killing Harry Potter.

But the only thing I have access to even close to a weapon is a plastic kitchen knife.

And murdering the Potter kid would create a riot among the fangirls.

So I guess I'll just stick with life in a cage.

Even if I do have to listen to that imbecilic Giggly-woo-woo until the seventh book comes out.

Can't be that bad, can it?


End file.
